The Choice
by Spitfireness
Summary: Rory, the daughter of Luke and Lorelei and next Duchess of Gilmore has come of age. Who will she choose to marry? LOOKING FOR A BETA.
1. Prologue

Title: The Choice  
  
Author: Nes  
  
Email: spitfireness@yahoo.com  
  
Disclaimer: The Gilmore Girls and its characters are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino, Warner Brothers, etc. Notice how I didn't name me?  
  
Summary: Rory, the daughter of Luke and Lorelei and next Duchess of Gilmore has come of age. Who will she choose to marry?  
  
Notes: I started writing this in May and never wrote more. But I will. Feedback would help. Half joking...  
  
Prologue  
  
Once upon a time in the duchy of Gilmore, a girl-child was born. Bright of eye and rosy of cheek, the girl was proclaimed an extraordinary beauty and fortunate this was, in truth, for she was the heir of Gilmore.  
  
Gilmore lay in a traditional county and therefore her parents invited three good fairies from Under-hill to their daughter's blessing-day. The first granted Lorelei charm. The second lady granted Lorelei grace. The third fairy granted Lorelei a sense of humor. The final unorthodox gift surprised the duke and duchess, but they thanked the good lady in stride. Their daughter, quite appropriately, gurgled her thanks and smiled benevolently from her silk-draped bassinet.  
  
The child grew strong and tall and true to all the promise of her blessing- day; beyond even, for Lorelei also proved to have a keen wit and sensible turn of mind. Misfortunately, from her mother's point of view, Lorelei also proved to be stubborn almost to the point of insubordinate. For instead of embroidering pillowcases for her trousseau or learning the most fashionable of court dances, she was inclined to run amok with the castle- children. Rare was the day when her dark ringlets did not resemble a thornbush or dirt smudges hide the silver seven-tined star on her brow that marked her a true daughter of Gilmore House.  
  
Notwithstanding Lorelei's wild behavior, the duchy, even the kingdom, continued to prosper. The spice trade continued as did the wool-dye trade and gentle turn of the social season. Sixteen years passed and Lorelei was of an age to marry. To all astonishment of the duke and duchess, their daughter tendered no protest and only looked on mildly when the first of her suitors appeared. Given that Lorelei's dowry was constituted of the entire duchy of Gilmore and she herself was an accomplished lady of agreeable complexion, her suitors were of consequence. There were earls, barons, viscounts, and even the younger sons of princes.  
  
The conventional quests and conditions were assigned to the many suitors and the date set a year and a day hence for the successful suitors to reconvene. On that day, Lorelei would choose from among those worthies the next Duke of Gilmore.  
  
Months went by and soon the suitors reappeared at the castle step bearing their various flying carpets, golden apples, and phoenix feathers. On the appointed day, the whole court assembled to witness Lorelei's resolution and attend the ball following. Resplendent in silver-trimmed white satin with her dark tresses shining and tamed by a diamond tiara, Lorelei inspected her suitors and their respective gifts. After a scant two hours of close examination, she had seen them all. Joining her parents on their dais, she raised her head and said in a smiling voice, My chosen husband is Luke of Gilmore Castle.  
  
A brown-haired young man stepped out of the back of the crowd where the castle-folk had gathered, his skin unmistakably tanned by ovens. An audible gasp flowed through the gathered crowd as they marked the shining rainbow-tinged salamander scales in his hand.  
  
A salamander! How, the court wondered, did a cook's apprentice manage to acquire the scales of the small fire-dwelling creature?  
  
"The ovens," Luke shrugged. "There are always salamanders in the bread ovens. I'm so used to the heat-"  
  
Suddenly the Duke whooped with laughter, his body bent double. The court and the assembled suitors were astonished. The Duchess only looked at her husband in stern remonstrance. Yet it appeared, perhaps it was the light, that her mouth turned up at the corners.  
  
The Duke regained his countenance and stood, "Our daughter's chosen has completed one of the set tasks. We acknowledge Luke of Gilmore as our heir." Then, to placate the disgruntled suitors he added, "Every suitor will return home with a salamander scale."  
  
All discontent fled the Hall for a rainbow-tinged salamander's scale was valued at twenty-seven times its weight in gold. The suitors made merry and were happy to attend the immediate wedding. The accompanying reception was much lauded in coming years, most notably for the cheese danish prepared by the groom himself. Well pleased by hosting the social event of the season, the duchess was observed grinning from ear to ear.  
  
Belly-full and glad, the dukedom prospered and the Gilmores lived happily ever after. 


	2. Chapter One

1  
  
The duchy of Gilmore was nestled between the Mountains of Song and the Deep Blue Forest. It was a fertile land with seldom any problems and a relatively low interest rate. The fortunes of the duchy were largely due to the ruling family, a kind people marked by the seven-tined stars emblazoned on their brows.  
  
The current duke of Gilmore was named Richard and he was well-known for his pragmatism and golf game. His wife, Emily was a celebrated beauty and party planner. Her soirees were quite popular among the elite set.  
  
But they were getting on in life. One autumn day, warm and golden, they called in their daughter and son-in-law.  
  
"We're retiring to Bermuda," Richard said. He took the crown off his head, polished the metal with his handkerchief, and handed it to Luke.  
  
"Just like that," Lorelei said.  
  
"Real estate is at an all time low," Richard explained. "And I've always wanted my own golf course…"  
  
"And the climate would be so refreshing," Emily added. "Mitzy, you know, the Viscount Georg's niece, was their last season and she said it did fabulous things to her complexion."  
  
"You've practically run the duchy for years now," Richard reassured them. "I've been training you both your since marriage. You'll do fine. And I'm only a courier away."  
  
"Oh, Chadmire's is good. They have these green pixies that are very quick."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind, mom." Lorelei nodded.  
  
"Yes, do." Emily paused. "Speaking of things to keep in mind, you should send out the announcements soon. Choose something tasteful. A nice gold leaf with burgandy accents."  
  
"Announcements," Luke asked.  
  
"Why Rory's almost sixteen!"  
  
"Yes," Luke acknowledged.  
  
"It's time for her to get married."  
  
"It's vital to maintain the chain of succession," Richard advised. "Always have a back up."  
  
Luke frowned. He didn't know if he was willing to give up his daughter.  
  
Lorelei tried to comfort him, "I was sixteen when we were married and we've done okay."  
  
"I'll leave you my notes on the etiquette," Emily offered. "A challenge or impossible task is customary  
  
"Oh, I'll give them impossible," Luke muttered. 


	3. Chapter Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: I am looking for a beta for this story. Since it's summer, I hope to finish the story within the next month and a beta would help greatly. Please contact me, even through the reviews here at ff.net, if you can help. Thanks. 

Days passed and found the household on the front lawn, waving goodbye to the former duke and duchess. Packing had been difficult. Though Emily and Richard planned to purchase appropriate clothing and items in Bermuda, they wished to also have cherished mementos and heirlooms. Thus the attics and warehouses had been opened, aired, dusted, and rummaged through. The task passed quickly as every opened trunks brought along a new story. The family had found long-since-seen albums, letters, even a delicate golden ball. 

"It belonged to my mother, Trixie," Richard told his granddaughter before handing her the ball. 

"Lorelai the first," Rory responded dutifully while trying to figure out what to do with the trinket. It was perfectly round and shone like a mirror, she speculated that it was dwarfs' crafting. But what to do with a golden ball? It was quite heavy, being solid gold, so she imagined one could not play catch or throw with it. She shifted the ball from hand to hand in puzzlement. 

"Yes. My mother was a brilliant woman. Absolutely brilliant." 

"A brilliant harridan," her grandmother muttered a shade too loudly from across the room. 

"Mine, too," Lorelai replied brightly. 

Richard frowned and Emily had the grace to blush. 

Just then, the door opened sending a stack of trunks teetering loudly to the floor. Other stacks followed like dominoes. In the outside hall, Luke stood sheepishly, a tray of food in one hand and a carafe in the other. 

The duke of Gilmore stood limply, embarrassed. "I brought lunch," he said unnecessarily. 

Silence reigned until Lorelai raced forward, asking, "Is that cheese?" 

Sound returned as the room whirled into activity once more. Emily had laid down the jewelry box she'd been searching through to ask Luke if that was cold lamb and mint jelly she spied. 

"Yes," Luke replied and the family knew he had brought it because it was one of her favorites. 

Then Richard turned to Rory and they grinned madcap at each other before he continued, "My mother was brilliant." 

And in that moment, Rory forgot about the golden ball and basked in the warmth of her family. 

It was that memory she cherished whenever she became lonesome for her grandparents. Staid and distinguished, they were in sharp contrast to her parents' balance of quarrel and tenderness. Yet both had provided her with a strong conviction in love and the desire to have that some kind of relationship with someone of her own. 

Unfortunately, her family did not provide any useful examples there. Emily and Richard had hit it off at a ball but mother and father didn't throw balls and, quite honestly, she'd curled passed the night in the library at the one ball she had been gone to last year. Her mouth curled up in a smile that had been a nice chair. A _very_ nice chair to have made her forget the frippery mess of a gown she'd let her grandmother choose. Rory doubted she could have managed a waltz in it, anyhow. 

Her parents, as the world knew, had grown up together in the castle. Many considered a perfectly romantic story and Rory'd heard, to her father's everlasting chagrin, some bard had made it into a song. Though not as wild as her mother had been, Rory did have friends among the castle children, but she'd never had a special fancy for any of them nor felt regret when they paired off. 

Having no favorites, Rory could not offer even a cursory protest when her grandparents had reminded her of the impending birthday. It was her duty to marry and, in any case, she could think of no alternate way to find a husband. Never a dreamy romantic, she agreed with the practicality of the tradition, yet some small part of her refused to resign itself to such expediency. She felt herself drawn to the tales of her childhood, quests dared to win the hand of true love... 

She was pulled from the budding daydream by the sound of footsteps behind her. Shutting her book closed, Rory turned to find a sulky Lorelai. 

"It's a great day, and I'm bored," her mother whined. "Come down to the village with me." 

"I told father I would sit through the open court with him," she replied, referring to the bimonthly day when any citizen under their rule could speak to the duke about his concerns. 

Lorelai jiggled the purse at her belt in response. "He already let me rob the treasury. He says to buy yourself something shiny." 

Rory thought about it, she'd been looking forward to handling duchy business with her father. "How about we come back early so I can see the last part of the court?" 

"Agreed," her mother said and they set out for the village that lay at the bottom of their castle's hillock. 

***

Stars Hollow was named for the very feature that gave Lorelai and Rory away. Though Rory styled her hair to cover the silver seven-tined star on her brow, people still bowed and curtsied as they made their way towards the square. 

She knew it was more out of habit than anything. Certainly the townspeople respected her family but close proximity to her grandfather's self-effacing ways, his wife and daughter's antics (both), and her even more self-effacing father had taken all the stiff formality out of the bows. 

Her mother nudged her towards the cloth booth, cooing over a measure of creamy damask. 

"May I show you some dress silks," the merchant asked Rory when her mothers' bargaining was done. He was already pulling down bolts of cloth. He held out one length for her to touch, "It's very fine, yes? I have a man get it for me from over the mountain. The quality is incomparable. At a moment's notice, I could get you the most brilliant white figured with roses, it will look as if the moonlight is shining from you! Nay, the starlight!" He leaned closer to confide, "And I know a tailor whose hands are magical. 'Tis whispered she learned her art in far off Chin, across the ocean. She could fashion a gown of great beauty in time for your joyous occasion. Only say the word." 

"Pardon me," Rory said gracelessly. 

"Your wedding, milady," he smiled kindly. "I have a son-" 

"Excuse me," this time it was Lorelai who interrupted. Her sharp look softened into a polite, but small, smile. "We have not yet made a formal announcement." 

Blushing, the merchant reached into his booth for a flier: **

**

TRY YOUR LUCK! 

Our lady Lorelai,  
daughter of Luke and Lorelai,  
our next duchess has reached  
the age of marriage. 

Could _you_ be the man  
she is waiting for? 

For more details, contact Taylor.  
Printed with the approval  
Stars Hollow Council. 

Rory gasped and reddened in mortification. Dazed, she allowed her mother to guide her out of the square towards the municipal halls. 


End file.
